


Welcome Home

by fandomfrolics



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:19:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1370308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfrolics/pseuds/fandomfrolics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve comes home from a trip to find Tony waiting for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

The sound of a key turning in the lock jolted Tony into consciousness. He inhaled deeply but didn’t open his eyes, just listened to the muffled sounds of Steve wrestling his bags in through the front door.

Door shut, light switch flipped, keys tossed on counter, footsteps, a pause, footsteps, and then a gentle hand on his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He turned his head and blinked blearily.

“Hey,” he said softly. Steve’s face was hovering low over him from over the back of the couch.

“Hey,” Steve said in the same tempered tone, his hand carding through Tony’s hair.

Tony rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I thought you weren’t coming back for another couple of days.”

Steve shrugged. “Apparently not.” Tony struggled up and Steve’s arm fell away. He straightened up from his crouch as Tony pulled himself into a seated position. “I’m not going to complain about it.” Tony nodded through a yawn and lifted his hands up for a big stretch. Steve watched, face inscrutable in the dim light. “What’re you doing here?”

That was when Tony remembered what he was wearing and he dropped his arms down, flushing as he tried not to make it obvious that he’d been curled up in one of Steve’s sweaters.

“I, uh…”

Steve grinned, then bent down to cut Tony’s stammering off with a kiss. “I missed you too,” he said simply.

He turned away to grab his suitcase and Tony couldn’t help but smile.

“God, I’m starving,” Steve said as he gathered his stuff to put away in the bedroom.

“There’s leftover Chinese. Want me to heat some up?”

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks,” Steve answered, disappearing through the bedroom door.

Tony stumbled over to the kitchen, flinching slightly at the cold tiles on his bare feet and wishing he was wearing more than just Steve’s sweater and his underwear. He tugged open the huge refrigerator door and pulled out the bag he’d put the leftovers into.

“It’s sweet and sour chicken,” he called. “Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect,” Steve called back through the open doorway.

Tony dumped out all the chicken and rice onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave. He pulled down a glass from the cabinet and filled it with milk, leaving the gallon out for a refill.

The microwave beeped just as he heard the sound of a flush. Steve came back in shortly after, heading for the counter where Tony’d laid the food out.

“Thanks.” Steve shot him a smile as he slid into his seat. “God, this smells amazing.” He picked up the fork and scooped a huge bite. “Did you get this from the place downstairs?”

“Yup,” Tony replied from across the counter. “She kept asking if I was alright because I only ordered two dishes.”

Steve laughed. “Instead of the usual twelve, you mean?”

“Mmhmm.” Tony picked out a piece of chicken and dropped it into is mouth, leaning forward on his elbows as he chewed. “So how was it?” he asked through the food.

Steve, always the better-mannered one, swallowed before answering, “Tiring.” He took a long gulp of his milk. “I mean, it was amazing, you know, getting to really see the effect Captain America has had on all of these lives, watching the kids light up when I talked to them and all that.” The silence between his thoughts was filled with the quiet scratching of his fork as he played with his food. He shrugged before he spoke again. “So I know I shouldn’t complain when it’s clearly helping inspire people. But it’s just…” He looked up at Tony again. “It’s exhausting, you know? Being that character all day.”

Tony’s heart twinged a little in sympathy because he understood all too well, both what Steve was saying and what he wasn’t.

It had taken far longer than he’d liked for Tony to see past the glow of Captain America to the Steve Rogers beneath but now he couldn’t stop seeing him. In Cap’s authoritative field voice he heard Steve snapping for Tony to hand over the remote. In a throw of his shield, Tony saw Steve letting go a high arcing jump shot over Tony’s head. And when Cap suited up for the press and put on his public face, Tony found the warm glow of pride in his eyes and the small smile at the corner of his mouth that told him Steve knew all the parading around was worth it, if it even inspired one person to be better.

Steve was quiet as he shoveled down the rest of his meal and Tony talked to fill in the spaces with anything that popped into his head, from stuff at work to adventures with the team in his absence. He followed Steve into the bathroom and hopped up onto the counter while Steve took a shower.

“Hey, I tell you about Rhodey and Carol?”

“No,” Steve called over the running water. “Did something happen between them?”

“Not yet,” Tony replied gleefully. “But I think they’re close.”

The shower stopped and the door slid open, revealing Steve in all his wet, naked glory. Tony handed him a towel and leaned his head back against the mirror, just enjoying the view.

Steve wrapped the towel around his waist and came over to Tony, standing close enough that Tony’s knees pressed into his thighs. He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Tony’s lips. Tony rested one hand on the back of his neck and they stayed like that for a moment, kissing softly, neither one feeling the need to deepen it as they just enjoyed the comfort of each other in the warmth of the steamy bathroom.

Steve pulled back just a little, leaving barely an inch between their mouths.

“Hi,” Tony murmured.

“Hi,” Steve murmured back with a quirk of his lips.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Tony said, fingers threading lightly through the damp hair on the back of Steve’s neck.

Steve’s smile widened. “Me too.” With one last peck to his lips, Steve stepped out of Tony’s embrace towards the sink. The mirror squeaked as he wiped clear a patch through the steam.

Tony watched him go through his pre-bedtime ritual, feeling like the warmth in the bathroom was seeping into his bones. He didn’t know when they’d become this - this couple of chaste kisses and trivial anecdotes and fuzzy domesticity - but he had a feeling it had been going on a lot longer than he’d realized. And that was A-OK with him.

“There was a guy,” Steve said, winding some floss around his fingers. “At one of the events, I mean.” His hands stilled and he just stared at himself in the mirror as he spoke. “He’d lost his job. His wife left him, took their kids. And he looked at me and he said.” Steve bit his lip, as if trying to get the wording just right before he recited it. “He said ‘I don’t really know how I ended up here. I was ready to throw in the towel. But I’m looking at you now and you know, I don’t think I can. I think I’m gonna have to keep fighting. And I’m gonna see my daughters again.’ And I was…” He glanced at Tony. “You know, this was towards the end of the tour and I was coming off a long day and I was just about fed up with the whole thing. And I just looked at him and I didn’t know what to say. So I thanked him and signed his picture and got pushed on. But I remember looking back over my shoulder. And I saw him staring at it, the picture, and I could  _see_ the determination taking over his face.” His gaze dropped back to his hands, absently winding the floss round and round. “And I still don’t understand, I think, what it is I’m doing when I go on these tours. I mean, that’s not what I signed up for. But I guess…I guess I should keep doing it.” He watched his hands, frozen in thought, then snapped back to himself with a shrug. “Just something I was thinking about,” he said as he lifted the floss to his mouth.

Tony looked at him, pulling strange faces at the mirror so he could get all the gunk out of his teeth, his hair all spiked up from the shower, and a little bit of soap on the back of his shoulder that he’d missed, and he felt like his heart was going to break its way out of his chest.

“You know I love you, right?”

Steve pulled his hands away from his face and shot Tony a heart-stopping lopsided smile. “Yeah.” He finished up at the sink and took Tony’s hand, tugging him towards the door. “Now, you want to show me just how much?” And really how could Tony say no to that?

Afterwards, they lay tangled together under the blankets, Tony’s face pressed into Steve’s shoulder and the smell of him filled him up, so much more than the lingering traces on the sweater he’d been wearing in his sad attempt to recreate this. And it was sad. It was sad and pathetic and maybe even a little horrifying but right now, wrapped up in both the sweater and the man himself, Tony found it hard to care.


End file.
